


Meant to Be

by IndigoDream



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Bitterness, Gen, Reflection, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 01:58:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21153704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoDream/pseuds/IndigoDream
Summary: A short character study of Hodge, pre-canon, and his thoughts.





	Meant to Be

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for the 2019 Trick or Treat Exchange! It was just a bit of fun for me too, focusing on a character I don't usually pay much attention to! Hope you'll enjoy it :)

The New York Institute’s training room is, somehow, the only place Hodge can feel somewhat like his old self in. He walks in early every morning, when the night still hasn’t died down, and the cold blue light that filters through the window reassures him. That same light pushes him out every evening, when his body hurts and aches, when everything becomes too difficult. He knows his boundaries, knows that applying endless endurance runes would only damage him in the long run. He tries not to dwell on the days of the Circle, when he would run and fight alongside Valentine for hours on end without needing the rune. 

On his neck, the Circle rune, once the object of his pride, burns slightly from just thinking of those days. He hates them all, all those shadowhunters who did this to him. They are disgraces to what shadowhunters really are. They do not see what Valentine had to offer, what he could have brought to the world. He would have ended the war, and he would have brought to the world the serenity the angels ordered them to bring. Valentine would have saved them all. 

“Hodge!” A voice, childish and high pitched, screams after him as he loses himself in the repetitive notions of training against himself. 

Isabelle Lightwood is seven, one of the brightest child he has ever met, and he can’t stand the sight of her. He is in charge of her and her brother’s training, and he hates both of them. They are the children of traitors, and their very existence as heirs to the New York Institute is an insult to him, and to every loyal follower of Valentine. The Lightwoods left Valentine at the crucial moment, the cowards. The fact that they got the leadership of this Institute is just further proof of it.

“What is it, Isabelle?” 

He has turned to her, and she smiles toothily. Her hair is braided behind her back, and she is clearly ready for some exercise. She has been pestering him lately to learn how to fight properly, rather than just the self defense he has been teaching her. She wants to catch up with Alexander, who is two years older than her and with whom Hodge has started properly exploring weaponry. 

“Mother said you would teach me how to use those,” she points at the training sticks, which look ridiculously big next to her. “Today!” 

Another order. He bites his lips and stops himself from rolling his eyes at her impetuousness. She wouldn’t understand. He’ll just have to show her she isn’t ready for it then. 

“Very well.” 

He grabs one of the sticks and extends it to her. Her small hands can’t hold it properly, but he doesn’t offer any correction. After all, the shadowhunters have made it very clear it’s through pain that they learn. They have made it very clear when they turned what had been his greatest pride, the rune Valentine had so carefully applied to his neck, into his daily torment. It should have been Hodge’s sign of honor, he had been one of the first ones marked with the rune, after Jocelyn and Lucian. Now, he couldn’t even think about this part of his life without feeling it burn. He hated them, their useless laws and their inherent weakness. He can’t wait until Valentine calls him back, and he can stand by his side again. Like he was meant to be.


End file.
